Jenna
by lis.liss.lisss
Summary: Her thoughts were interrupted yet again by the sound of two men yelling and a little girl crying.  Then there was a gunshot and one of the men howled.
1. Chapter 1

She was furious. And hurt. She was just trying to help! The girl was obviously cheating on him! She just didn't want him to get hurt. He was her best friend, and best friends looked out for each other.

She was stomping around the path, trying to find her way home around the park. Her dark march was interrupted by some construction worker who told her that she had to go through the woods 'cause they were doing something-or-other on the path. Whatever. Going through the woods was faster anyway, and the faster she got farther away from him, the better. Her thoughts were interrupted _yet again _by the sound of two men yelling and a little girl crying. Then there was a gunshot and one of the men howled.

The little girl screamed. What the hell was going on? She just wanted to get home! However, she kept quiet and ducked down into some bushes and assessed the situation. In front of her, there was an old building used for who-knows-what. And maybe not used at all. But what was _in front_ of the building was what mattered: three armed, buff, scary looking men, one Asian and two whites, holding on to a little girl around four or five years old (middle-Eastern or something like that, she decided) were facing a man on his knees, clutching his right arm. There was blood all over him and a look of desperation on his face. The man was Italian. Very Italian.

"Please…" he panted, swaying a little. "Just let her go. She can't give you anything. What do you want?"

"No, no, no," the white guy holding the girl said almost carelessly. He actually did not look like much of a gangster kind of guy: well-cut hair, slightly tan, brown eyes, a little on the taller side and forming a beer belly but trying to hide it. If she guessed, he would have to be around forty-or-so years old, give-or-take _a lot. _She wasn't good at these kinds of things. The guy (she named him Nathan for now) could have been a businessman in another life. Maybe he was one. "She will buy me your cooperation, won't she?"

"What? What do you want from me? Just let her go and take me instead!"

"Shut up, dammit!" As Nathan yelled at him, the Asian one- Daniel works- put two more shots in the air. Nathan got really close to Dannyboy and hissed something in his ear.

"Now how do you know my team isn't listening on the other end of my earpiece, buddy? They're comin' to getcha. Just watch," the Italian said almost lazily or carelessly.

White guy number 2 waved a box in the air. Damn. Signal jammer. He knelt by Italian Guy and said, "You're gonna do exactly as I say, right?" When Italiano didn't answer, the buff man with a buzz cut cocked a gun at the little girl who was standing and crying silently and asked him again, "Right?"

"Right," he seethed.

"When I tell you, I want you to talk in to your earpiece. Tell the rest of your team you're fine and to meet you somewhere. Far. No funny business. One, two, three, go."

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs!" He almost sang. What the. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine." There was silence for a bit and then he responded, "Don't worry Tommy, I got the bad guys." He sighed. "My name is Very Special Agent Anthony D. DiNozzo. I told you I'm okay. Come meet me near the statue of Abe Lincoln. Yes, Lisa, I'm perfectly fine. Just hurry up; crowds are beginning to gather and I don't want little four-year-olds to get too scared-"

"That's enough." The guy- white guy number 2- took out the earwig and crushed it under his heel. He then took Tony's phone out of his pocket and threw it far into the forest.

**Hi everybody! My first NCIS fanfiction! Please stop by and comment so I can improve!**  
><strong>xxx<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

The phone whizzed by the girl's face a couple feet away. Her eyes widened- she had to get that phone. She took one last look at the scene: one Italian man kneeling on the ground with one eye on the little girl being held on to tightly by a white man. The other white guy was on the phone. The Asian guy had a tattoo trailing up his left arm with short hair and was standing with his arms folded. Convinced that there was nothing she could do to help, she plunged in to the forest.

_Oh my god. Oh my god. What is going on? What what what? How did I get myself mixed in with this?_ These and other thoughts similar to this were rushing through the girl's head. She was quite young- only thirteen years old. She was Asian- Korean, _not _Chinese, to be exact- and to describe her social status in a few words: the greatest number of likes on any of her Facebook profile pictures is eight. And she's good with that. All of that "you're so gorgeous" stuff is fake and disgusting.

She was running blindly in the forest. _Where is that damn phone?_ Look side to side, run forwards, repeat. Run to the left a little, then to the right, repeat. This was a _great _day to throw your phone at your best friend because you're mad at him. Her lungs were probably on fire and she was probably panting by now, and she should be feeling the burning crawling up her calves, but she didn't feel anything. She was just focused on finding that- there it was! The little silver flip phone (good god he had to upgrade). She flipped it open with trembling fingers, almost dropping it twice. _Now what? _If this guy really was some kind of fed, and he was really wearing an earpiece, he was probably a part of some field assignment. _She _was probably part of the field assignment too! Great! Her fingers hovered over the number nine. Would the cops really get there fast enough? The cops were _already here and they couldn't keep anything in line!_ A light bulb dinged on in her head. She found the contacts list and scrolled through looking for anything familiar. _Lisa, Tommy, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Lisa, Tommy, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Why do those names sound so familiar? _She finally found it: Gibbs. Just that. A simple _Gibbs. _Oh well, worked for her. She pressed send. As the call was dialing, she swore she heard footsteps.

"DINOZZO! WHAT THE HELL IS-"

"TRACE THIS CALL!" She screamed before he could finish and took off running. She could hear him snap something that could have sounded something like "Tom!" There was nowhere to go. She couldn't climb a tree. It wasn't like she could dig herself a den or something in the ground. She plunked herself down near a bush and tried her hardest to ignore cold of the frozen ground. Seriously? Snow in March? Come on. "Hello? Hello?"

"Yes. Who is this? How did you get this phone?" The guy demanded in to the phone.

"Who are you? Are you one of them? Oh my god. Help me! Who are you?"

On the other end, Gibbs was thinking furiously while McGee was waiting on Abby to get them a location. _Who is this girl? How did she get Tony's phone? _There was one thing for sure: Tony had his phone with him when he went in to the field. They all did. Which meant that the girl had to be nearby. Which meant that her life was in danger. Holding his phone to his shoulder, he hissed to Abby, "Abby! I need a location right now!"

"Yeah, Gibbs! One sec- got it! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, GIBBS! SHE'S IN THE SAME FOREST AS YOU RIGHT NOW. JUST A MILE-OR-SO EAST OF YOU!"

He swore. A civilian? What? He could hear frantic whispers from the phone, "Hello? Are you there? Hello, answer!"

"Yes, I am here. Who are you?"

"You tell me first! How do I know you're not one of them?"

"Gibbs. My name is Gibbs. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs from NCIS. Listen, we are sending someone to get you. Just sit ti-"

"YOU'RE A FED TOO?" She was on the verge of freaking out. Almost. _Stay calm, _she willed herself. She took a deep breath. Here she was in the middle of a forest. In the middle of some kind of federal investigation/hunt down thing. _Just do what they do in cop shows, the most inaccurate shows on Earth._

"Hey, listen," Gibbs whispered. She took comfort in his firm voice: a voice that knew what it was doing. "A question for a question. I ask you a question and you answer it honestly. I'll do the same."

"Okay, shoot."

"What is your name?" He figured he would start small and work his way up, but finding out her identity was important, too.

"Jenna Bae, B-A-E, not pronounced 'bay' but 'beh.'" She thought rapidly. There were a million questions floating through her spinning-out-of-control mind, but she went with, "You know where I am. Is someone coming to get me?"

Gibbs blinked. He snapped his fingers at McGee who said, "Already on it, Boss. But do you know how many Jenna Baes there are? We need more information." He pointed a finger east and mouthed _Go get her. Fast._

"Yes, I am sending someone to get you. He should be there soon." Gibbs' mind was whirling as well. This girl had just skipped over the questions any other person would have spit out automatically: what's going on? Who is Anthony DiNozzo? Can I trust you? Instead, she skipped these and asked a totally almost out-of-the-blue question. "What school do you go to?"

"Killington Place Academy. Eighth grade, birthday: June 21, 1998. My question: who is the little girl?"

"What little girl?" Gibbs was… shocked. He did not know that there was a little girl involved. "Describe her for me?"

"Around five years old, Middle Eastern-looking, long, curly black hair, tan skin. They were using her to get Agent DiNozzo to cooperate with them! Do something! Who is she?" Gibbs ran a hand through his hair.

"David," he said, cradling the phone to his shoulder. "They-" his voice almost cracked. "They found her. They have her. They have Liora."


	3. Chapter 3

On the other end, Jenna could hear footsteps coming from somewhere. Fear squeezed at her stomach. Was someone going to find her? All of a sudden, there was a boom and the world flipped itself up, down, and around. _Bomb? _She thought. The last thoughts she had on her mind were a weird hot sensation on her right arm and leg and a tin-can voice screaming her name. Then, she blacked out.

When she came to, Jenna could see a man unconscious against a tree. A gun was sitting on the ground not far off- he probably dropped it during the explosion. This man had the color hair that caused fights all the time- is it brown or dirty blonde? Either way there wasn't much of it, it was quite thin. The more she studied the man, the more familiar he became. Where was this weird feeling coming from? He was starting stir and in a panic, Jenna threw herself at the gun and backed up against another tree to face the man. As soon as she picked up the gun, she wanted to put it back down. She wanted to fling it in the forest and just _run._ It was cold and black and had a sense of _death_ to it. This surprisingly heavy metal object had the amazing and ultra-intimidating capability to cause so much pain and damage in one moment. Jenna was almost glad she didn't know how to work it.

The pain on the right side of her body wasn't helping the situation either. There were pinkish-redish scars on her upper arm and calf. Were they burns from the explosion? What _was _the explosion? She twisted around and tried to remember. Did the guy throw Agent DiNozzo's phone in the direction of where the bomb exploded? It could have been thrown there to be destroyed and be an indicator that Agent DiNozzo was dead. She shook her head. _Stop thinking so hard. Just survive._

In front of her, the man was blinking his eyes. Jenna raised the gun- one hand on the trigger; the other wrapped around it, just like a video game- and tried to make it look like she knew what she was doing. It probably wasn't working.

The second he opened his eyes, everything clicked. What was the author of her favorite book series doing in the middle of a forest, in the middle of a government operation/raid/battle/thing, with a gun? Her head spun. This could have been the man Agent DiNozzo addressed as "Tommy," but Tommy was the handsome Italian. Anthony DiNozzo- Tony- is Tommy. Lisa is an Israeli woman she had not met, Gibbs is Tibbs, and that left one: McGregor. Wait, so now this author is a federal agent? What?

"You did a terrible job choosing names, McGregor," she blurted out. _What?_ She asked herself. _What just happened?_ McGregor blinked, groaned, and rubbed the side of his head.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, his eyes searching her. He had to get this girl to safety as soon as possible. Questions could be asked later.

"I think my right arm and leg are burned. I blacked out after the explosion, but woke up before you did, obviously. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"Never been better." He tried to get up, but staggered. He stuck an arm out to steady himself against a tree and tried to raise his left hand to his head but winced and kept it close to his body instead. He groaned to himself. _Great. How am I supposed to protect this girl with only one arm? _He frowned. He just noticed the girl was still pointing a gun- _his _gun- at him. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Put it down."

"Good job, lefty. Looks like your dominant hand is going wacky. That's great." Jenna rolled her eyes at him. She was still on the ground with her knees pulled up. The butt of the gun was resting on her knees and her hands were wrapped around it.

"How do you know I'm left-handed?" McGregor squinted his eyes. Usually, people just went ahead and assumed he was right-handed, which annoyed the heck out of him. When they found out he is left-handed, they made a huge deal out of it. She rolled her eyes.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" She kicked the gun across the ground, hitting it against his foot. "Take it. I don't want it." Jenna frowned. "We are going to have to sling your arm or something. Here, take my scarf." She was suddenly glad her mom made her wear the white knitted scarf this morning. It actually came in handy.

She reached over to tie it around his neck and hug his arm to his body, but he suddenly said, "No, wait." McGregor struggled out of his jacket, and Jen eventually had to help him get it off, ignoring the stinging in her arm, when he wouldn't stop at her insistence. "Take the Kevlar."

Her eyes widened. "No, no I couldn't. You keep it."

He looked at her dead on. "My job is to protect you and get you home safe. Put it on." Grudgingly, Jenna gently slipped the bulletproof vest over his head and strapped it around her torso. It was huge, Jen was only about five foot two, really. The scarf was fixed around his neck and his jacket was back on. "Alright, let's move."

McGregor stood up, trying to pretend to himself that he didn't stagger. _Damn tree. Why can't you be soft?_ His head was pounding. _Some protector you are, you can't even stand on your own two feet._ He rubbed his eyes and told himself to shut up. And slapped himself across the back of the head for good measure. _Alright, now which way am I supposed to move…_

"Do you want this back?" Jenna stuck out the gun. "I don't even want to look at it anymore. It freaks me out." McGregor holstered the weapon and suddenly took notice of her burns.

"Oh God, you're burned real bad, and I don't have first aid stuff that's going to take care of that with me… Does it hurt?" Her skin was red and raw all over, with burn marks covering most of her right arm and the right side of her right calf. He winced to think that they could have been worse without her jeans or hot pink Killington hoodie.

"Well, duh." She rolled her eyes, but she knew the value of the question. If they didn't hurt, the burns would be much more severe. Pain meant the worst they could be were second-degree burns. Fun. Well, they're better than third degree burns, okay? "There's nothing you can do. The faster we get going the faster we get there, wherever _there_ is, so let's just go, okay? You don't look so good either."

_Bang._ All of a sudden, there was blood everywhere, and McGregor was on the ground.

**Guys, if you're reading, please review or something so I know I'm not talking to myself.  
>Smush is amazingly awesometastic(:<br>But seriously, I don't care if your review is just a smiley face.  
>Actually, do that. :D for great, :) for good, :( for ehhh, and X( for LEAVE GO AWAY. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

_Bang._ All of a sudden, there was blood everywhere, and McGregor was on the ground. _What? Wait, was he just shot?_ From the ground, McGregor shakily held his gun up, pointed behind her, and mouthed _shoot._ _What? No way! _But when the next bullet slammed into her Kevlar, she knew it was all or nothing. She had to save McGregor and herself. The next shot would be going to her head. Jenna snatched the gun and shot three times. _Bang, bang, bang. _The bullets stopped coming, but despite all the chaos that was happening, she hoped fervently that the guy wasn't dead. She wasn't prepared to kill anybody, and she probably never would be.

Blood was pounding through her ears, and she was pretty sure that her burns were bleeding or something, and blood was all over her hands as she tried to keep pressure on McGregor's bullet wound that she couldn't even find because of all the blood spilling out of him. _Why was there so much blood? _Her vision was turning red and time was doing something funky to her: slowing down then speeding up, morphing her vision and making it blurry… Damn. That wasn't time. Jenna was sobbing under her breath.

"Oh my God. McGregor. Oh my God I'm so sorry. Tell me what to do!" She didn't know how to administer CPR, she didn't know how to bandage GSWs, she didn't know, she didn't know, she didn't know! How can a straight-A student _not know so much?_

"Sharpie… and phone. Jacket pocket." McGregor's voice was whispery, but at least he could talk, right? Was he usually this pale? Jenna obliged to his request. "Contacts. Look for Ducky and Gibbs… Ducky is doctor… Write down numbers on arm. Don't lose them." She found them and wrote the numbers down as neatly as she could on her left forearm. She wasn't sure if she actually wasn't in pain or if the adrenaline or endorphins or whatever were messing with her head. Did anyone else notice that doctors pretty much abused the word "endorphins" to sound fancy? Jenna dialed the phone for Ducky, the doctor, right? She couldn't even think straight. The brown from the ground was mixing in with the brown from the trees was mixing in with the blue from the sky. Hm. Brown on blue. Weirdly pretty.

"Just sit still McGregor, I'm calling the Ducky guy you were talking about." Maybe if she acted normal, the situation would normalize itself.

"My n-name isn't McGregor-"

"I _know_, and it probably isn't Gemcity either."

"My name is-"

"No, don't tell me." When McGregor raised his eyebrows, she said, "In _Artemis Fowl and the Eternity Code, _Butler, his bodyguard, but his name isn't actually Butler, he just calls him Butler because his name is supposed to be _a secret from his employer_ or something, saves him from a bullet. He almost dies but he doesn't, and while he was lying on the ground dying, he tells Artemis his first name. Telling me your real name would mean you're dying. Don't do that to me. Please." Jenna was crying again- actually still crying, but McGregor nodded his head.  
>"Is that from a movie?" He could remember someone who liked movies. He quoted them all the time. He didn't know what he would do if there was a mini-Tony running around him.<p>

"No, it's a book." The phone was still ringing. _Stupid phone. You promised me coverage wherever I need it. Well, I know it's a little tough in the middle of the woods, but this is important okay?_ Where was Ducky anyway- underground?

"Timothy, my dear boy, are you quite alright? I'm afraid Jethro has lost contact-"

"Doctor? This isn't… Tim," she shut her eyes at his real name. "My name is Jenna Bae. He was shot. What should I do?" Ducky's stomach plummeted. If either of them, or both of them, were seriously injured in the middle of the forest, with such little medical attention… He didn't even want to think of the possible outcomes. He hurried to Abby's lab so he could be in touch with Gibbs as well.

"Hello, Jenna, my name is Doctor Donald Mallard, but you can call me Ducky. Most of my friends do. Now about Timothy, describe his condition for me: is he pale? How much blood has he lost? In which area was he shot?"

"Um… I think he's a little pale, but I don't remember his natural skin tone," she said, her voice shaking. "And there is so much blood everywhere, I can't tell if it's mine or his or…" Ducky could almost hear the tears dripping down her face as desperation fueled her. As Ducky entered the elevator, the call began to crackle.

"Hello? Ducky? What's going on?" She admitted it: she was probably panicking. Jenna Bae, the take nothing seriously kind of girl, was on the verge of just keeling over dying. Literally.

"Jenna, everything is alright. I am in an elevator, but I am coming out right now. I was in my autopsy lab, in the basement, but I am on my way to the forensics lab. I can communicate to Gibbs as well." He paused. "Now, I need you to take three deep breaths and calm yourself. Everything will be alright, we just have to get through this first." He could seriously hear her breathing in and out. On the other line, Jen was thinking, _Great. So he _was_ underground._

"Okay. Tim is still conscious and he's still breathing. He's bleeding a lot, but I'm not entirely sure from where. I think the bullet definitely missed his heart. I think most of the blood his coming from his left side, from the front." Jenna took another staggering breath. "I've been putting pressure on it to try and stem the blood flow, but I don't know if it's working."

"You are doing a great job, Jenna." Ducky wasn't lying. She was obviously on the verge of having some kind of nervous breakdown and she shouldn't be able to think clearly, but somehow, Jenna Bae had thought clearly enough to take care of Timothy. "You really are being really brave."

Behind him, Abby was relaying the information back to Gibbs. She was holding back her own tears. She had to stay strong for the rest of the team and for that poor little girl, Jenna.

"Brave, Duck? I don't know about brave." There was silence for a minute or two, but Ducky sensed she was only trying to pick her words carefully. "Maybe courageous, but not brave. I'm pretty scared right now."

"And the difference between the two?" She sighed. Ducky wasn't telling her what to do about Tim. Did that mean there was nothing she could do?

"Bravery… it's about being fierce. Fearless. If someone is brave, he or she isn't scared of anything. But courage, courage takes so much more strength, in a way. Courage is doing the right thing, no matter how scared you are or how much you don't want to do it, and doing it whether or not you're scared. To be courageous doesn't mean to be fearless or heroic. That's being brave. Being courageous is about being strong. Does that make sense?"

"That… that actually does make perfect sense, my dear. I have never seen it that way before. You really have opened up new windows for me."

"Would you say I was being deep, Duck?" Could he hear a smile on the other line?

"Sure. That was very _deep._" _Teenagers and their language. _Ducky smiled.

"My mom always tells me I'm too deep for my own good." She giggled, but she wasn't being loopy. Talking to Ducky was actually kind of fun. "What should I do about Tim?"

"Just keep doing what you are doing now. Gibbs is on his way and he is going to take care of you. You talked to him over the phone, remember?"

"Yes, I do." She chuckled, but not in a movie weird-chuckle kind of way, more like a loud smile. "He thought I was Agent DiNozzo."

"And I thought you were Timothy McGee." She cringed. _There's his full name._ Wait. Thom E. Gemcity. She squeezed her eyes tight, visualizing the letters wiggling around. She smiled. The letters in Timothy McGee spelled out Thom E. Gemcity.

From where he lay, McGee couldn't stop smiling, even though his entire self and his ancestors were hurting. Jen really was a bright girl. "Jen?"

"Yeah, Tim?" She replied. Then she frowned. "Can I call you Tim? Or are you one of those hokey-pokey guys that are all Agent This and Mr. That and Dr. Who-"

"Tim is fine. I just wanted… Tell us a story," he whispered, indicating himself and Ducky.

"Ducky, Tim wants a story," she spoke into the phone. Would you like to hear one?"

"Of course! I am quite the story man, myself."

"But what about?"

"What about your friends from school?" Ducky offered. Jenna's eyes lit up.

"Once I was in English class. It was a dreary Wednesday (or Thursday or Tuesday, but definitely not Monday or Friday)- actually no, just kidding, it was sunny out. So, it was a fantastic day with the sun shining, but it was _cold. _Like… really cold." She snorted, "I know, what I good description. So I was in English class and we were about to start by playing some kind of weird game to learn about nouns or parts of speech or cars or whatever happened that day (a noun is a person, place, thing, feeling, or idea, by the way. _See? Learning!). _Then my friend Lynn walks in the door totally carrying her entire breakfast with her. I'm talking cup of tea, several clementines, piece of toast, ya know. And it wasn't even breakfast time! I was 11:30 in the morning, the class right before lunch. So she comes in and she randomly throws an orange slice at the teacher. Everyone stared, like, complete silence. And the teacher, Dr. Collins, completely pulls a bag of Cheerios from _nowhere_ and throws a handful right back at her. It was so weird! Like this fat old man and a tiny blonde-haired girl were just throwing food at each other! That's not even the worst: a tour guide for prospective parents came around and looked through the window in the door. Their faces were _priceless._"

On the other line, Jenna could hear Ducky laughing and another person- a woman- just cracking up. She could just see someone rolling around on the floor. What she couldn't hear- or see- was the man behind her who also cracked a grin.

**Hiya! :) How was it this time? Any tips?**  
><strong>Just wait for the next chapter... whenever that will happen... The story will start to explain itself from there.<strong>  
><strong>Sneak preview: Tony was on an undercover assignment and some people who were believed dead come back to life. :#<strong>

**Also be warned that some... geez I'm having a brainfreeze and can't remember the proper word... CONTROVERSIAL. THAT'S WHAT IT IS. Anyway, some controversial topics will come up, so please be aware that I'm not trying to offend anyone or imply anything, it's just for the sake of the story.**

**So if you want someone to appear in the story as a zombie (okay, not an actual zombie because those freak me out) hit me up with that button over there and I'll consider.**

**Okay bye~ :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Tony was pissed. He was more than just pissed, he was angry, burning, furious. Terrified. There was no way he was getting out of this alive or Liora unscarred. He never should have accepted that undercover assignment, but then what other choice had he had? He remembered walking- storming- into Vance's office a couple months- years? Had it already been a couple years since this mess started- ago, and just saying, "Whatever it is, my answer is no." Director Vance looked amused and stuck a toothpick in his mouth.

"You didn't even know what the question was." No sweat. _Very _Special Agent DiNozzo would say yes in the end. They all do.

"I'm not going undercover." His voice was flat. No arguments, no objections.

"And how would you know I was going to ask you to go undercover?"

"Because life goes in a pattern: losing things, finding things, making things… Or in your case, get DiNozzo in trouble, whether that means stick him on a damn boat in the middle of the sea or stick him by himself in the middle of some sort of gang. Drug cartels seem to be NCIS' personal favorite. And let's face it: getting called to the principal's office is never something good, unless you're the goody-two-shoes nerd like McGee, which I am not." Tony stood in front of his giant desk waiting for the you-could-be-saving-lives speech and the I-will-never-bother-you-again gag. The Director stood too.

"Oh, but this time it's different. You are the best man for the-"

"Oh cool it. I've heard-"

"You are _personally connected."_ An eyebrow rose. He hadn't heard that one before. How hard would it be to walk away this time? How had they twisted everything to make it seem like he would actually want to do it? Damn politics. "This isn't about me." Snort. "Really. This is about you. That is why I am offering you the job first because you are the one who should have the honor of getting it done. Do you remember what it feels like? Closure? The chance to heal someone else's wounds?" Tony staggered back. No. He could _not _fall for this. Stop, make it stop.

"Revenge isn't closure."

"This isn't about revenge."

Tony could remember the picture he held up perfectly. And when Vance asked him if he knew who she was, he almost blurted out _Ziva._ But it couldn't be Ziva no matter how similar their oval faces were, their dark brown eyes, the widow's peak framing her forehead. No, it wasn't Ziva. Ziva had curly hair. This little girl had super straight hair. He remembered Vance telling him…

"Her mother is 29 years old now. She was believed dead 13 years ago when she was 16. Can you guess how she died?"

"Ha-Hamas suicide bombing." No, this couldn't be happening. This didn't make any sense.

"Yes. But that isn't true. Her father sold her to the Woman's Placement Movement when she was sixteen." Tony's mouth was probably hanging open. He couldn't tell. Why was it so cold in here all of a sudden?

"What? _What?_ Wait, what? I don't- what? I don't even know what that is!"

"That's a sign of good character. But I can't tell you more unless you accept the assignment."

"Then confirm it for me: who is this little girl?"

"Her name is Liora Greenberg, eight years old. Daughter of Talia David. She is Ziva David's niece."

Tony had hurtled out of the office, muttering something like "Need some air." He was officially on leave. He was once again an undercover agent. It turned out that there were already many agents working all over the place trying to get this organization shut down. They were the Women's Placement Movement, a play on "Willpower movement." Their mission was "to put women back in their proper place." It was basically a super-sexist group to bring male superiority back. It was disgusting. It made him want to throw up. The WPM bought, sold, traded, kidnapped, faked deaths, everything. Who else was a part of this? Who else had been sucked in? He thought about Kate. Was it possible?

Could Kate be alive?

**Hi guys I'm back ^^  
>Comments, smiley faces, all that stuff. :D<strong>


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